Lillian: A loliver story
by packersgirl37
Summary: set in pride and prejudice time. the one person she was meant to love was the one person she had come to hate. xLOLIVERx AU-ish. trailer isn't exact
1. Chapter 1

**Okay, the bold is the voice of the "announcer", italic is what is happening, and regular is dialogue. **

Trailer

**Everyone loves Mr. ****Oken****Except her.**

_Lillian walking with her friend._

Lillian: I have grown up with Mr. Oken and can only have one opinion of him: that he is a self-centered, pompous pig, and I will have nothing to do with him.

**Lillian Truscott was always one step ahead of her kind. **

**But when it comes to love, she's three steps behind. **

_Lillian crying with head in hands._

**Now, the man who everyone loves is about to challenge everything she's ever felt. **

Lillian: You've ruined my life, with no thought for my feelings or emotions, now what am I to do with yours?

Mr. Oken: Marry me.

Lillian: What?!

**Lillian's about to discover that the man who symbolized everything she's ever hated . . . **

Lillian: There is nothing in the entire world that would induce me to accept your hand in marriage!

**Is starting to become everything she's ever dreamed of. **

**She's about to discover that true love comes from the heart and the heart can be a very mysterious thing. **

Lillian: This is all my fault. If only I had laid down my pride and seen him for who he truly is, none of this would have happened.

**Discover **_**Lillian.**_

Lillian: All I have ever wanted is one man who loves me for who I truly am. Is that so hard to find?

Oken: Not if you look in the right places.

**By the way, the trailer doesn't fit the plot of the story exactly. And if you didn't like the trailer (I personally don't like it myself), please don't judge the story based on it. **


	2. prologue

Raindrops trickled into the windows of the Truscott family carriage. Tired and weary from the carriage's constant rattle, six-year old Henry Truscott and his playmate Oliver Oken leaned against the door, unable to

"When will we ever get home?" he asked his friend's parents.

"In a few hours, Oliver," Rosamund Truscott replied. "Why don't you look outside? This is beautiful country we're in."

_Sure,_ he thought. _All I see is trees. __Tree.__Tree.__Tree.__Suitcase.__Tree.__Wheel.__Axle._His head shot up.

"Stop!" he yelled as loud as he could. The carriage screeched to a halt, startling everyone inside.

"What is it, Oliver?" Rosamund exclaimed as Oliver flew out of the carriage door and onto the rocky cliff below.

As they climbed out and came beside little Oliver, the Truscott family gasped. Below them lay the pieces and cargo of a crashed carriage. Its occupants lay a little farther down the cliff, dried blood running down from cuts on their bodies. William Truscott, Rosamund's husband and Henry's father, rushed to the bodies, hoping for a sign of life, but soon found that they had all been killed in the crash. All but one, a blonde girl about Henry's age who had been shielded from the rocks by her dead mother. William carried the unconscious girl to Rosamund, who then took her to the carriage. When they reached the estate, they would notify townspeople nearby of what they had found. As for the little girl, they would take care of her until relatives and a guardian was found.


	3. chapter 1 or 2

_A young girl, dressed in boy's clothes, stood surrounded by a group of boys her own age. The brown-haired one standing closest to her crossed his arms and stated, "You're only a girl." _

_Tossing her long blonde hair defiantly, the girl answered, "Do you think I cannot do it?"_

_The boy thought for moment, smiled impishly, and replied, "Yes." _

_"Then I will." _

_She climbed over the fence and crept towards the untamed colt. With twelve pairs of eyes watching her, the girl suddenly rushed at the horse and leapt on its back. Almost instantaneously, the colt reared and began to buck furiously. As the little girl hung on for dear life, eyes wide with fear, her twin brother, Henry, shouted, __"__Jump off, Lillian!" _

_The brown-haired boy who had dared her to ride the colt began to yell as well, and soon, the whole group of them joined in. Finally, the wild horse came next to the crude wooden fence, and Lillian grabbed onto it, freeing the horse of its burden. As the still –bucking colt cantered to the other side of the pen, she leaned over and let herself onto the grass outside of the fence. None of the boys said anything, but you could see the admiration for her shining in their eyes, especially in those of a certain boy who had dared her to do the dangerous feat. Lillian smiled; she knew they wouldn't dare exclude her from now on because of her sex. She was now one of the boys. _

A ray of sunlight burst in front of Lillian's eyes, awakening her from the dream. As she tried to adjust to the brightness, Lillian sat up and asked the maid groggily, "Can memories turn into dreams?"

The maid looked startled by her mistress's random question, but quickly masked her surprise and asked, "Do your dreams bother you, miss?

"Just one, really. I don't understand how something that I forgot, something that happened eight years ago, can suddenly spring into my dreams," replied Lillian as she climbed out of bed.

"Well, miss, the mind is a powerful thing. Maybe you had been thinking of something that triggered the memory."

"Or someone," Lillian muttered under her breath.

Dismissing the maid, Lillian went to her wardrobe and picked out a simple, dark green dress, choosing to dress herself and avoid her maid's protests against her choice in raiment. For some reason, Lillian had always chosen to dress beneath her rank. Her parents and few female friends had tried to convince her to wear clothes more fitting to her station, but she always refused. Such trivial things were not important to her.

Heading down the rear stairway, she slipped into the kitchen and past the cook, who was preparing breakfast for her master and his family. Lillian sneakily grabbed an apple from a basket in the corner and made her way through the back door to the stables. The stablehands, who were used to her odd behavior and unladylike manners, led out her buckskin-colored gelding, fastening on only the bridle and leaving the saddle hanging from a peg on the wall. Smiling inwardly at the stablehands' shrewdness, she mounted her horse and galloped out into the countryside surrounding the family estate.

Before long, she spotted her brother, Henry, and a few of his friends fishing and lounging around the small pond near the edge of the property. She gently nudged her gelding towards them. The young men were startled by the appearance of this imposter.

Ignoring the stares she was getting, Lillian called out cheerfully to her asleep brother, "Hello, Henry!"

Henry was startled from his nap by the sound of her voice. As he looked around, his face turned red at the thought of his friends seeing his sister riding bareback in a dress. A tall young man with a pleasantly confident manner and brown-blonde hair stepped forward.

"Aren't you going to greet your sister, Henry? No? Then I'll do it for you." He then heartily bowed to Lillian with a winning smile and declared, "It is such a pleasure to see you again, Miss Lillian."

An arrogant smile played on Lillian's face. "Of course it is, Mr. Austin," she said in a sarcastic, teasing manner in order to hide her admiration of him. "After all, we've already established that without me, you would perish."

As he helped her off the horse, Mr. Austin said to Lillian, "Which puts me completely at your disposal." Then whispering quietly so that only she could hear, "And I told you to call me Matthew."

Looking away, Lillian blushed and removed her hand from his. She was so flustered that she failed to see a young man with dark brown hair standing a ways behind her, watching her every move intently.

**a/n****: hmm. ****Matthew/Matt?**** I sense a bit of foreshadowing! (Or am I thinking of Lucas? I need to get my facts straight!) Hope this long chapter makes up for the long wait.**


	4. Chapter 4

Oliver hadn't seen Lillian since four years ago, when she was still growing into the idea of being a young lady, and he was stunned by her radiant natural beauty. He had thought she was beautiful when he knew her as an adolescent, but now she was truly beautiful, inside and out. Though his mind desperately wanted to approach her, his legs wouldn't obey his thoughts, and were content to stay at all costs away from her. So he simply watched her as she cast her fishing line out into the pond, Matthew Austin by her side. As he saw her jesting and glancing admiringly at Austin, he felt jealousy give his heart a sharp tug. Maybe if he were more bold and outgoing like Austin, she would look at him the same way she looked at Austin. Maybe then he would become more than just her childhood comrade. Maybe . . .

"Oliver, why so glum?" Henry's voice cut through his thoughts.

"Couldn't say, really," Oliver said flippantly, hoping that Henry's noted naiveness would give him a hand in masking the true object of his thoughts. His prayers went unanswered.

"Why, I do believe you're still smitten by her!" Henry exclaimed, a smile playing on his face.

"I won't pretend to know what you're talking about, Henry. I have not the talent."

Henry simply rolled his eyes, knowing that his friend would never give in to his prying questions, and walked away to another one of his comrades. Oliver, glad for the solitude, forced his legs to carry him into the thick clump of trees nearby, and he began to listen to the sounds of the woodland surrounding him.

It was at this moment that Lillian entered the same group of trees, and, looking for a longer stick to use as a fishing rod, came upon Oliver standing there. He heard her footsteps behind him, and turned to see her standing as if she was frozen, with a look of shocked bewilderment on her face. He desperately wanted to say something, but his vocal chords had a mind of their own.

"Oli—Mr. Oken!" Lillian corrected herself. "I didn't expect to see you here; I thought you were in London."

"No, I'm not," he said hurriedly.

Lillian nodded, clearly feeling the awkwardness of the situation. Presently, she changed her manner, and asked cheerfully, "I'm sorry; how is your mother?"

Oliver looked away, and his expression instantaneously darkened. In a pained voice, he replied, "She took ill a few years ago. The illness claimed her life not soon after."

Lillian stepped back, as if something had struck her. Marianne Oken had always been like another mother to her, and had loved Lillian and Henry as if they were her own children. Lillian was so upset by the news that she failed to notice that she had never been informed of Mrs. Oken's death. Impulsively, she walked over to her old friend and embraced him sorrowfully. Distraught as she was, Lillian missed the look of bliss that passed over Oliver's face and the shiver that went down his spine.

Just then, Matthew Austin came into the clearing, searching for Lillian. Though he was used to Lillian's bold and unladylike behavior, he seemed a bit angry to find her embracing another man, but he hastily masked it with a winning smile at Lillian.

As both Lillian and Oliver blushed and released each other, Austin stated, "I suppose, Miss Lillian, that you are a little too preoccupied to accompany me back to the estate?"

Lillian sighed teasingly. "I suppose I'll have to, since you can't be trusted alone on a horse." Austin smiled yet again, and led Lillian to the horses. Lillian wondered why, all of the sudden, she longed for the warmth of Oliver's body.

Oliver ate his supper at the tavern and inn in the town near the Truscott estate. All of the other young men sat together, drinking and reveling, but he preferred to eat alone and push the events of that day from his mind. Hid solitude was disturbed, however, by Austin pulling up a chair next to him. Though vexed by Austin's company, Oliver wisely kept quiet and ignored him as best as possible.

Presently, Austin broke the silence and asked straightforwardly, "Am I right in believing that you have some sort of claim on Lillian Truscott?"

As much as it pained him to say it, and as much as he wanted to be lying, Oliver repled, "No. No, there's nothing between us more than mere friendship."

Satisfied with this answer, Austin sat back relievedly. "Good. I was afraid when I saw you in the forest today."

Deep down, Oliver was troubled by this comment, and jealous. "Do you intend to marry her?" he asked slowly.

Austin eyed him mockingly. "Of course. Who wouldn't want to?"

Something in Austin's manner startled Oliver, and he asked, "I suppose . . . that a large dowry doesn't hurt matters?"

Austin smiled. "I see you understand me," he replied, thinking that Oliver had similar motives for marriage.

Oliver felt like tackling the ambitious man, however, a plan to save Lillian from falling for Austin's masquerade entered his head.

"Are you aware that Mr. and Mrs. Truscott are not Miss Lillian's true parents?"

Austin sneered, "Why does that matter?"

Knowing that he was taking a risk, and ignoring it, Oliver said, "since she is not their child, legally, she can have part in their inheritance."

Austin looked up, somewhat startled, then declaring that he was in need of sleep, left Oliver to contemplate what had happened.

**Link to the trailer made by Camy99 is on my profile!**


	5. Chapter 5

"Are you quite sure?" Lillian prodded the tavern keeper mercilessly. The man grunted, clearly irritated.

"I told you b'fore, ma'am, he had business t' do in London, and left straightaway. Now stop all the pestery questions and git."

Frustrated, Lillian sighed, but followed the man's orders and began the long walk home. _How could he have left with so little notice?_ _What could be so urgent that it would cause him to leave so suddenly? _ Her mind was filled with such trifling thoughts that she did not notice Mr. Oken coming up beside her until it was too late.

"How do you do, Miss Lillian?" he called. Lillian started, then blushed in anger when she saw who had caused her to jump.

"Don't do that!" she exclaimed, then turned back around as if she were ignoring him.

"Do what?" Oliver asked as he quickened his pace to match hers.

"You know very well that you frightened me, Mr. Oken," she chided him. Oliver chuckled.

"Really? I frightened you?"

Not looking at him, Lillian replied, "Do not become accustomed to it. I promise you, it shall not happen again." Suddenly, Oliver stopped. Reluctantly, Lillian turned. Oliver looked at her with an almost disappointed gaze.

"What is it?" Lillian asked grumpily.

Oliver replied mournfully, "You're not the girl I once knew; you've changed." She was taken back by his words.

"I'm still the girl I once was," she replied.

Oliver hesitated, then stepped close to Lillian, and gently stated, "Yes, there is still that girl in you; however, she is growing up."

"Is that such a terrible thing?"

Acutely aware of how close he was to her, and desperately fighting the desires that swelled up inside him, Oliver looked deep into her eyes, and replied, "No. Not at all."

Suddenly uncomfortable, though she did not know why, Lillian turned away and pushed her legs forward.

"Wait!" Oliver called. She stopped but did not face him. Oliver strode up, handed her an envelope, and said, "I was instructed to deliver this to you." With that, he walked away, leaving her to open the envelope alone. Inside lay an invitation to a ball hosted by her brother in honor of his friends.

**One week later . . . **

Lillian stood before her mirror, clothed in a thin, white formal gown. It was simply designed, like most of her wardrobe, and followed the style of most dresses of that day.

She was about to pin up her long hair when a rap on the door stopped her. Her mother entered, her exquisite gown outshining the simple beauty of Lillian's. Rosamund bit her tongue when she saw Lillian's garment, and instead offered, "May I help you with your hair, dear?"

Not showing her surprise, Lillian replied, "Thank you, Mama." As she sat down, and her mother commenced to curl and pin her hair, Lillian wondered at her mother's request. Other than playing the pianoforte, Lillian and Rosamund had extremely little in common, and their tempers were very different.

Presently, Lillian's mother broke the silence. "I understand that Mr. Austin will be at the ball tonight. He's quite handsome."

"Yes . . . " Lillian answered, unsure of why her mother chose this topic.

"Well, has he shown any intention of making a proposal?'

Inwardly, Lillian sighed. _Not again. _"Is it truly important if he has or hasn't?"

Now it was Rosamund's turn to sight as she placed the last pin amongst Lillian's curled locks. "Lillian, you know that it is time for you to—"

"Mama!" Lillian stood up. "Just because my marriage is all that occupies your thoughts doesn't mean that mine must be equally engaged."

Seeing that her stubborn daughter wouldn't budge, Rosamund backed down and nodded her assent. She realized that no matter how hard she had tried over the years, Lillian wouldn't change. She was too hard-headed.

**Next chapter: THE BALL!**


	6. Chapter 6

Lillian walked amongst the drunken, cocky males and hopeful, flirtatious females and nearly gagged with disgust. This was exactly why she hated balls. In the same room, a romance could flourish and a heart could be forever broken, all at the same time. The irony of it all sickened her.

But tonight, she was one of the young hopefuls, secretly searching for a certain young man to come sweep them onto the dance floor and assure them of their affection. However, to her dismay, Mr. Austin was not to be found. She had been searching for nearly half an hour, when she felt a touch on her shoulder that made her skin tingle. She turned, not to find the long-awaited Mr. Austin, but Oliver instead. "Miss Lillian, may I have the honor of a dance?"

Lillian knew that when a man asked to dance with a lady, the lady was obliged to comply, no matter how detestable the experience may be. So, though she would have rather spent the night searching for Austin in vain, she distractedly nodded her assent, still hoping for Austin to come rescue her from the discomfort she would inevitably be subjected to.

As Oliver and Lillian joined a set, she looked at her partner and saw something stir in the depths of his eyes, something she had never seen before. It startled and mystified her, yet she did not lower her eyes from his. The violinist and celloist began to play a slow, lilting minuet. Her feet slowly placed themselves in the first steps of the dance, and he did the same. Both were silent, secretly trying to deal with the arising emotions; joy and nervousness gripped Oliver, while Lillian was drowning in confusion and uncertainty.

But then, amidst the sounds of swishing dresses and tapping shoes, Lillian heard the voice she had been longing to hear. Her head whipped around, and she saw that Mr. Austin stood with his back to her in the next room. She heedlessly reacted by breaking out of the patterned steps of the dance and calling out his name. A very disappointed Oliver followed her into the next room, though he kept his distance as she approached Austin. Lillian was so filled with happiness that she failed to see the odd stares she was getting from the group of people clustered around Austin.

"Mr. Austin!" she spoke over the din, causing him to turn in her direction. But, who was the luxuriously dressed, smiling woman clinging caressingly to Mr. Austin's forearm? Lillian's face quickly transformed from one of ecstasy to shock and confusion.

The lady seemed to not notice the awkwardness of the moment, and blurted out in a painstakingly cheerful tone, "Oh, you must be Miss Truscott! Oh, I've so wanted to make your acquaintance!" Now, she turned to her escort. "Aren't you going to introduce us, Matthew?"

Smiling obligingly, Austin did as he was asked. "Miss Lillian, may I introduce my fiancée, Miss Cecelia Fitzgerald."

Lillian's heart rocketed into her throat, and she almost felt like vomiting. She quickly mumbled some excuse, and propelled herself pas the unsympathetic crowds of mingling people. Only one pair of eyes followed her trail, but they were filled with compassion and love. Oliver headed out into the garden behind her, though he made sure to keep his distance.

Only when she was certain that no one was watching did she begin to let her emotions come out of the depths in which she had pushed them. Bitter, painful tears began to drip down, and a whimpering sigh escaped her lips as she sank down on a secluded stone bench. Watching from behind a nearby tree, Oliver began to doubt his discretion in telling Austin of Lillian's adoption. She seemed truly heartbroken. What if she had truly loved him? What if he had been mistaken in thinking that he had a chance in gaining her affections? As he turned to go, his boot snapped a twig, and Lillian looked in his direction in surprise. Her cheeks reddened with embarrassment.

"Do you make it a habit, Mr. Oken, to watch others wallow in despair from behind an oak tree?" she asked as she turned the other way to hide the tearstains on her cheeks.

Oliver hesitantly came and seated himself next to her. "Only if there is a chance that I could help the person," he replied.

Lillian reluctantly looked in his direction, and answered in a hardened and somewhat cold voice, "I do not wish nor need to be helped. I am perfectly capable of handling this on my own."

Oliver knew that she wanted him to leave, but he chose the exact opposite. Sliding a few inches closer to Lillian, he gently touched her hand. Swallowing his inhibitions, he said gently as not to offend her, "Lillian, you must realize that Austin was not suitable for you, no matter how long you choose to deny it."

Surprise and anger pushed all memory of what she had seen that night away. Irked, she sprang off the bench and said in a most unladylike manner that would have startled any couples wandering near there, "How dare you say such a thing! You know nothing about Mr. Austin! Nothing!"

Equally provoked, Oliver shouted back, "If he truly cared about you, then he wouldn't have betrayed you! You know very well that he never loved you! Is that what you want?"

Hot, angry tears swelled up against Lillian's will. "What I want?" she now yelled. "All I have ever wanted is one man who loves me for who I truly am! Is that really so hard to find?"

Oliver said in a quieter, yet still harsh, tone, "Not if you look in the right places."

Lillian suddenly became aware of how close they had gotten while yelling at each other. She felt a strong attraction rise up from inside of her. Trying to dismiss it, she turned away and began to walk towards the manse, saying good night. Oliver stood there for a long time, the conversation playing throughout his mind.

Once she was as far away from him as possible, Lillian sank down next to an outer wall. The unexpected and unwanted attraction she had felt refused to give her any peace, and she spent the remainder of the night there, desperately trying to forget everything about that night.

**a/n****: I'm thinking of starting a new story called "Krystal Clear." Don't worry, I'm definitely not abandoning this story; I've already got the plot for the next few chapters laid out in my head. Just keep a look out for the new story on my profile. **

**Also, I need a substitute name for ****Miley****, one that fits in the 1800's. If you think of one, please send it in a PM or review. And thanks for all the awesome reviews! You guys are what keep me writing! **


	7. loose lips

Lillian barely slept that night. The snatches of rest she got were haunted by dreams of Mr. Austin, so she kept herself awake in order to try to escape the overwhelming despair. The steady drip of melting candle wax was the only sound she heard, other than her own never-ending thoughts. Slowly she paced the room over and over, replaying every memory, every word, every look she had shared with Austin. Surely he had loved her. Certainly there was more to him than Oliver had said. He had to be wrong. She wouldn't let herself think otherwise. 

The warm rays of sunlight began to break through the pale mists of morning. Dawn found her wandering slowly through the countryside, heeding neither mud nor thorns. Her feet came upon the lane that led to Meryton **(a/n: sorry, I couldn't come up with a good name)**, the nearby town, and she subconsciously began to follow it. It was mid-morning by the time Lillian came upon the humble buildings of Meryton. A skittish, talkative young woman sighted Lillian, and began to call and chase after her. Lillian contemplated running away and hiding when she saw that it was Olivia Gardner, the greatest gossip she had ever known. 

"Oh, Lillian, how do you do? Why, dear, look at you! You're six inches deep in mud! Oh, didn't you just love the ball? I thought that it was perfectly divine, especially the young men. Who was your favorite?" Lillian's face grew irritated and confused as she didn't know which question to answer first. However, Olivia kept chatting on, not noticing that the conversation was completely one-sided. 

"I absolutely adored Mr. Long. He is _so_ handsome and rich. Did you hear about Mr. Austin being engaged to Miss Fitzgerald? She's positively exquisite! And _so_ accomplished and wealthy. It's a good thing that that friend of his saved him from that lady with no fortune." 

The realization of what Olivia had just said suddenly hit Lillian. She immediately stopped in the road and grabbed her companion. "_Who_ saved Mr. Austin? And who was the lady!" she asked loudly and urgently. 

Frightened by Lillian's strange behavior, Olivia stuttered, "I . . . I c-can't seem to recall exactly. He had a rather strange name, something like Oglethorpe . . . or Oaktree . . ." 

Lillian's eyes flashed as she gulped and whispered, "Oken?" 

Olivia lit up with recognition. "Yes, that's the fellow! He saved that poor Mr. Austin, and just when he was about to propose! Could you imagine! Now, what was the lady's name?" she wondered aloud. But when she turned to Lillian, no one was there. Olivia jumped in surprise, and whimpered, "Hello? Lillian? Is everything all right?" 

Lillian ran as fast as she could away from Olivia and civilization. The last thing she wanted was to see people at the moment, especially nosy ones. No one would ever find out that she had intentions of marrying Mr. Austin, and she would make certain that no one would _ever_ find out about her past. She'd do whatever it would take to keep it a secret, and Oliver was going to pay for what he had done to her. Of that she was certain. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Btw, Emiline is the sub for Miley. I appreciate all the ideas you guys had for Miley's name. Destiny was the most popular, but it didn't really fit with the time period. **

Emiline Stewart strode slowly but surely away from the Truscott family estate, where she had just been to call on her friend Lillian, who happened to be strangely absent. Emiline had just returned from a long voyage with her aunt and uncle to Bath. Her time there had been well-spent ad delightful, but she was ready to see her friend again. It had always occurred to her that their friendship was an odd one, as they were so dissimilar. Lillian was wild and reckless, not caring for tradition or what was considered to be proper; Emiline was sweet and had pleasant manners, though rather flirtatious among men. The few things they shared were irritating older brothers, and an importance on love instead of money.

She could still recall the first day they had met:

_"I told you, Lillian, I want you to call me Miley! It's so... different! Exotic, even."  
_

_"You know your brother would have a conniption if he heard you called by that."  
_

_Emiline sighed and fell back on the bed dramatically. "I know. Brothers never let you have _any _fun." At that both of the girls burst into a fit of giggles, knowing that wasn't anywhere near the truth. In fact, Jackson was the one who started calling her Miley. His intentions, of course, were to completely infuriate her. Unfortunately for him, it did the complete opposite._

Emiline sighed. Things had been so much simpler back then. Suddenly, a flash of color in the nearby field caught her eye. She looked up to see her missing friend walking blindly through the mud, with hot and angry tears pouring down her face. Emiline was shocked to see Lillian cry, as she had never seen a single tear on her face. She hastily ran towards her friend, though she held up the hem of her dress in her hand.

"Lillian, is something the matter?" she cried out worriedly.

Lillian looked up, embarrassed, and stated in a shaky, though somewhat steady voice, "I'm quite alright, Emiline. How was your holiday?"

Emiline's face grew stern, and she forced Lillian to sit on a nearby fallen tree, saying, "Don't change the subject. I know very well that something is the matter with you, and I will detain you here until you tell me what it is."

Half-smiling at her companion's stubbornness, Lillian's eyes potrayed an angry sadness and she replied, "When Henry came back from town a fortnight ago, a large group of his friends came with him. I—a certain friend of his . . ."

Emiline's eyes grew wide with excitement as she interjected, "Are you saying that you love Mr. Oken at last?"

Lillian's face suddenly grew hard, and her tone was cold as she said through clenched teeth, "Even if he was the last man on the entire planet, I vow I will never love Mr. Oken! He is the cause of all of this." Emiline was shocked at her friend's angry outbreak, but she listened silently throughout Lillian's retelling of the events that had led up to where Emiline had found her.

Emiline was even more surprised when the narrative was over, but she managed to perceive something that Lillian would not. She saw that though Mr. Oken's actions were cruel and hurtful, they were done out of love and of the jealousy that love had brought. She had come to know Oliver through Lillian and Henry, and had always believed that Oliver loved her friend. In fact, Henry and Emiline had spent much time together trying to make the two realize how suitable they were for each other, though always had it been in van. So it can be supposed that even now, Emiline used Lillian's present situation to accomplish her private ambition.

Emiline hastily encouraged Lillian to approach Mr. Oken about the matter, though in a civil way. Causing a scene would only give the gossips something to gab about, after all. Emiline spent the rest of the day with Lillian, comforting her and trying to remove the deep-seated hatred that had established itself in her heart.

"Excuse me, sir, but is a Mr. Oken lodged here?" Lillian asked the same tavern keeper a few days later. It had taken her three days to calm down enough to confront Oliver without bringing a pistol.

The man was not pleased to see her. "I'm sorry, miss," he said in an irritated, condescending way. "But he's not 'ere. He left for London two nights ago, and yes, I'm sure of it. I saw him go with me own two eyes."

_The coward,_ Lillian thought, and left the man to tend to his work. _He doesn't even possess the gallantry to face me as a gentleman! _All the way home, thoughts such as these ran through her mind, and did nothing to help nurture her wounded pride.

It would be a year before Lillian would see Mr. Oken again, and by that time, she thoroughly hated him, inside and out.

**a/n: I kind of forced myself to write this chapter instead of waiting for inspiration, so sorry if it's not the best. Btw, most of the stuff in this chapter was inspired by the ideas of Pouring.My.Heart.Out.xJul. thank you!! **

**Next chapter: the trailer begins to come true!!**


	9. oliver's return

He hadn't wished to leave. It was not as if a willful desire had pulled him away from Lillian that day. He still wasn't quite sure what drove him to board that carriage headed to the north. Perhaps it had been a natural instinct he hadn't known existed.

Anyway, it had done him much good to leave. He had let an estate of no small proportions, Windsor Parks, of which he planned to make his permanent home. It was a largely wooded property, boarded by a lake, and was set among the purple mountains of the northern country. It was a new and strange experience, living in a neighborhood where you knew absolutely no one, but he enjoyed the freedom. And the families welcomed him as another son, or rather (as they hoped), a son-in-law. Young ladies, both the beautiful and the homely, strove to make his acquaintance and possibly attain a proposal. Not that they made any difference to him, though. He still loved Lillian as much as ever, and wrote Henry in order to gain news about her doings. The reports were not always favourable, as Henry wasn't very tactful, and told Oliver that Lillian was angry at him, though he knew not why.

And so there lay the purpose of his baggage lying atop the rickety carriage Oliver was hold up in along with an eloping couple. Though his letters said that he was travelling to visit some distant relatives, his main objective to see her, angry or not. He had to know what Henry could not tell him—why. He would do whatever it took to right whatever wrong he had done her, if indeed, he had done anything at all.

Also, he had to see her again, to see if it was at all possible that she, at any time, had loved him. The year he had spent in the north had been full of company and loneliness. Every tree and every rock seemed to hold happiness for him only if she was at his side. He could not see any remotely beautiful thing without thinking of her. Life had no joy without Lillian.

And so, he began his journey back to the country of his childhood, talking to no one, and not a single moment passing by without his heart reminding him why he was doing what he was doing.

**Yeah, I know that it's short, but I kind of did that on purpose. Let me know what you think! And if you have any ideas for the story, just let me know!**


	10. the letter

Lillian sat the pianoforte, but could not drive herself to touch it. The keys were inviting, and she longed to caress them and hear the sweet melodies she used to know. Yet she could not. The memories were too haunting, the melodies too reminiscent. How her father had loved to watch to play, and her mother had taught her everything she knew in hopes that she might become a great proficient. But their hopes were in vain; she would never touch the instrument again. It only reminded her of them.

The past year had brought many changes and tragedy with it, the most significant being her parent's sudden death. The physician had had absolutely no idea what sickness had suddenly come over them, so he had administered a blood-letting, which, in turn, had killed them. As was legal, Henry inherited the estate and his father's inheritance. Though Lillian was not legally an heir, Henry insisted that she continue to live at the estate until her marriage.

Lillian now stood and paced the room as she thought. Marriage was quickly becoming her enemy, as no sensible, good-humored, eligible man had come her way. She cared now only because of the burden she felt that she was becoming to her brother. Lillian still mourned for Austin whenever he crossed her mind, and the burning hatred was rekindled every time Emiline mentioned the name of Oliver Oken.

"Ma' am, is your brother about?" the housekeeper called through her thoughts.

Lillian spun away from the chair she had been unwittingly gaping at and answered quickly to cover her burning cheeks, "Why?"

"A letter arrived from Windsor Parks, ma'am, wherever that is."

"Oh, I'll take it," Lillian stated with an obliging smile. The lady left her with the letter, and Lillian's curiosity rose. She desperately wanted to know who it was from, but opening it would be an unforgivable invasion of privacy. Lillian's hands twitched in indecision, then jerkily broke the seal before they could protest. Her eyes half-frantically scanned the strangely familiar writing for a signature or something that would give away the author. A carefully scrawled signature lay on the last page: Oliver Oken. Inevitably, her expression hardened, and her eyes turned ice-cold as she read,

" . . . by the time this letter has reached you, I shall be well on my way. My only excuse for this journey need not be repeated here; you know my true motives. Please do me the favor of not making certain persons aware of my coming. Until I see you on the fifth of April, I remain your friend,

Oliver Oken"

She realized that he would arrive that very day. In fact, he could arrive at any minute. A foreign desire sprung up; part of her actually wanted to see him, to her horror. This sudden emotion startled 

her and the papers fell from her hand to the floor. He was coming. The source of her agony was coming for reasons unknown to her, and yet, she wanted him to!

The faint knocking coming from the front door caused her head to whip around. Hastily, she gathered up the papers that consisted of Oliver's letter, and mentally, she tossed these strange feelings aside, allowing the hatred to seep back into her thoughts. She heard distant voices; the boisterous, jolly tone of her brother intermingled with Oliver's cautious and yet lively voice. Her heart leaped into her throat, and she nearly clutched at her throat in order to suppress it. Presently the voices faded. Lillian walked slowly to the window and gazed carefully through the panes. There on the lawn strode the two-- Henry's mouth never slowing for a moment, and Oliver looking about him in reminiscent happiness.

Lillian knew not what to feel.


	11. dinner

**Sorry for the long delay. Hopefully the long chapter will make up for it. ******

Unaware of the arrival of a certain gentleman and unsuspecting of the potential turmoil that lay inside the house, Emiline walked towards her friend's home in a carefree manner. A hearty "Miss Emiline!" rang out and caused her head to turn. To her left stood Henry, waving madly. Smiling giddily to herself, Emiline altered her course towards Henry. However the sight of the unsuspected Mr. Oken caused her feet to slow and her mouth to drop. She hastily grabbed Henry's arm and pulled him a distance away from Oliver.

"Why wasn't I informed of this?" she hissed under her breath.

Henry sighed resignedly. "I realize that you're upset, however—"

"Upset?" Emiline interjected. "I don't believe that I'm the one you should worry about. Do you understand the significance of this? If Lillian discovers that he is here—"

"She cannot avoid him forever, Emiline, no matter how much she loathes him. It will do her good to see him again, and perhaps she might be able to forgive him."

Emiline's jaw clenched in worry, and she stated angrily, "If something should go wrong . . ."

Henry reached for her hand and lightly squeezed it, saying, "Nothing will. I'm certain."

Feeling herself begin to blush, she pulled her hand away and avoided his gaze as she said, "Don't be so sure."

In a half-teasing, half-caressing tone, Henry answered, "Yes, madame."

_Why must he be so unlike the others? _Emiline thought uneasily. Curtsying to Mr. Oken, who was too lost in his own thoughts to notice her, she walked away towards the house.

When the bell for dinner rang later on that night, Lillian was just as unready as ever to see Mr. Oken. Emiline's pleas for civility only heightened her displeasure of the situation, while the unsteady beating of her heart made her feel extremely uncertain and confused. How could one hate a person more than anything else and feel enormously attracted to them at the same time? It was illogical and indelible, yet it was real.

A sense of dreadful anticipation lay upon Lillian and Emiline as they silently strode to the dining room. Lillian's breath caught in her throat as the great marble pillars that marked the entrance to the dining room appeared on the right wall. And now they were before the door. The doors swung open, and both girls involuntarily shivered at the sight of the two very different men. As the men bowed and the ladies curtsied, Lillian kept her eyes far away from Mr. Oken's face, though she was sure that his gaze was on hers. Apparently feeling the awkwardness of the moment, the group sat down in silence as the servants proceeded to serve the first course. Henry cleared his throat and began to engage Emiline 

in conversation. However, Lillian heard none of what was said. She was acutely aware of _his _presence, sitting across the table from her. Knowing that seeing him was inevitable, she raised her eyes guardedly. She was startled by the emotion in his eyes, which she recognized as the same she had seen when they had danced. Memories of what had taken place that night filled her mind once again, and her expression turned stony as she quickly looked away.

"You are well, Miss Lillian?" Mr. Oken's voice resounded in her head. Instantly, Henry and Emiline's conversation was dropped.

Not daring to touch her food, Lillian answered, " Yes, I am."

"I was . . . grieved when I heard about your parents. I-I cared for them very much."

Lillian looked up and answered with a cold, patronizing voice, "I'm certain the feeling was mutual."

Emiline and Henry exchanged uneasy glances. "Have you made many friends in the north, Mr. Oken?" Emiling asked, hoping to clear the tension.

"Yes. The residents there have made me feel quite at home. I've made many acquaintances, though I do not believe I'll ever have as good of friends as I have here."

"And we are _so_ thrilled to have you as a friend, Mr. Oken," Lillian stated haughtily, ignoring Emiline's warning gaze. "I must say," she continued, "that you have been sorely missed this past year." She looked up again, eyes gleaming. "After all, which you gone away, who else may we depend on to meddle in other people's affairs?" Lillian barely missed being kicked by Emiline. Coldly excusing herself, she left the room, her food uneaten.

Barely noticing that dark thunderclouds lay overhead, she ran outside. On the outskirts of the estate lay a small atrium where she had spent many days as a child. Not caring for the distance, she strode quickly through the dense trees towards it. She had just left the cover of the trees, the atrium being still a while off, when the heavens seemed to open and pour an army of raindrops upon her. It was only a few seconds before she was wet through. Gathering up her skirts, Lillian ran the rest of the way. Her chest heaved with exhaustion as she leaned up against one of the weathered columns. Tears began to mix with the waterdrops, though she knew not why. Turning so that she faced the pillar, she let them flow out of all the anger and emotin she had stored up since her parents' death.

Watching from a distance, Oliver felt his heart bleeding at the sight of her, though he did not approach her. Knowing that he was missing an opportunity, he turned to walk away with a sinking heart.

Lillian suddenly felt the gaze of someone or something, and she turned in the direction she felt it was coming from. However, there was no one there.


	12. drama the moment you're waiting for

The slow trickle of water drops left over from the rains mingled with the cautious chirping of nearby birds, gently shaking the last tendrils of sleep away from Lillian's mind. As her eyelids slowly fluttered open, she vaguely realized that she had fallen asleep on the stone floor of the atrium. Remembrance of what had taken place the evening before crept into her memory, and she groaned in despair, completely unready to see or converse with anyone.

As if in a daze, Lillian shakily stood and pushed herself to walk away from the comforting solace of the atrium. Her mind for once was blank as she passed by tree, rock, and stream, caring not for where her feet took her. A cold breeze gently ruffled the leaves, and she wrapped her arms around herself as she walked. Her dress, still soaked from the downpour, did little to warm her, and presently she began to shiver. Ashen with cold, her face emitted a certain emptiness—a despairing loneliness, if you will.

Mr. Oken, who had woken before dawn to find her, son spotted her huddled, dreary form and ran towards her worriedly. Grabbing her wet shoulders, he slipped his wool coat over them and exclaimed almost angrily, "Have you gone mad?" Lillian's turquoise-blue eyes met his own, and he gasped at the change he saw in them. _What have I done?_ he thought. Tears filling his eyes at the sight of the woman he loved being so hurt, he inhaled sharply and said, "Lillian, I'm so sorry." Oliver thought he saw a small spark light up her eyes for a moment.

"Sorry?" she whispered, not harshly.

"Yes, I apologize. For . . . for whatever I have done to have caused you pain. Believe me, it was unconsciously done." **(a/n: yes, I used the line from the movie pride and prejudice. It just fit so well.)**

Lillian's empty eyes were now touched with fierceness. "You do not know what you have done?"

His eyes showing a brief sign of grief and regret, he answered, "No. Would you be so kind as to enlighten me?"

Despite their original intent, his words only angered Lillian more. "Perhaps, if you can, recall a certain _friend_ of yours—Mr. Austin, I believe it is," she spat out.

"What of him?" his voice raised a notch.

Stepping closer to Mr. Oken, her voice dripping with disdain, she answered, "You crushed whatever chance of happiness I had with him just to fulfill your malicious and jealous desires! You, who knew how deeply I cared for you—"

"And this is the reason for your animosity?" Oliver interjected angrily.

Coming so close that their faces almost touched, Lillian exclaimed, "You have ruined my life with no thought for my feelings and emotions; now, what am I to do with yours?"

Eyes flashing and chest heaving, though he knew not why, Oliver blurted out the one thing he had kept inside and locked away for so long: "Marry me."

Lillian stumbled backwards as if he had just hit her. Eyes wide with a dozen unidentifiable emotions, she whispered sharply, "What?!"

"I—I love you. From the day I first saw you on that hillside . . ." Oliver's voice gave out, then suddenly whispered almost inaudibly, "Please, Lillian."

Lillian grabbed hold of the one clear thought in her mind, the rest being too confusing and unwanted. "There is nothing in the entire world that would induce me to accept your hand in marriage!" she hissed cruelly, then spun on her heel and ran towards the house, once again leaving Mr. Oken on his own. Oliver picked up his fallen coat and stared at it, wondering if Lillian would ever stop running away. Taking out a crumpled piece of paper from the coat's pocked and the quill he always kept wth him, Oliver sat on the wet ground and began to write.

Lillian did not stop until she had reached the house. Ignoring her brother and Emiline's worried protests, she would not speak. Emiline and Henry stared at each other in confusion as she sat herself at the pianoforte and played until she fell asleep on the tear-stained stool.

**Wow, I just realized that I must enjoy writing drama-filled chapters. You'd think I was in love with soap operas or something. Anyway, sorry this is so long in coming. Please forgive me and blame EOCT's, SAT's, homework, and visiting grandparents. Please, please review!!**


	13. the letter 2

_It never has been and never will be my intention to pain you. Even in writing this, it is my sincerest desire to see you happy. Though the contents of this letter may at first offend you, please do me the favor of forgiving me, for this must be said. _

_It was not jealousy or malicious desire, as you suggested, that prompted me to do what I did. It was truly the earnest desire to ensure your happiness, something which I am sure you will never have with Mr. Austin. Whether you choose to believe me or not, I know this to be the truth, for I have seen firsthand the true nature of this man. _

_After seeing us together in the forest that day, Mr. Austin concluded that some sort of attraction lay between us, and he inquired after it that night. I quickly put his fears to rest, despite the affections I expressed to you today. His relief at this was so plainly obvious that I become curious as to his intentions. It was not long before Austin revealed to me that he indeed intended to make an offer of marriage to you, though it was never implied that he felt any affection towards you. His sole reason for proposing was that he believed that you had in your possession a large inheritance. His ambitions were solely monetary. _

_Wanting to shield you from such a man, I informed him of the truth of your inheritance. Had I known how much pain this caused for you, I certainly never would have considered it. I am not defending my actions, which certainly were cruel; I am simply explaining the events that bade me choose what I did. _

_I do not expect nor even hope that after reading this, your feelings for me have changed. My affection for you will never diminish; however, this shall be the last time you hear of it. That I can promise. I remain forever yours, _

_Oliver Oken_

After rewriting the letter for what seemed to be the hundredth time, Oliver finally sealed the letter. He would place it in the hands of the courier once he arrived at the carriage-post. Stuffing the letter loosely into his pocket, he lifted his trunk from the floor and carried it out into the hall.

**Please, please, PLEASE forgive me for taking so long. I promise I'll be updating more often after may is done, since now I'm stressed out due to EOCTs, finals, projects, SAT, etc. I swear, must everything happen at the same time? Just to warn you, my mom decided that she wanted to schedule our internet time, so I'll only be able to update Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Review!!**


	14. author's note

Hey readers!

Sorry, I haven't finished the next chapter yet, although I do have the start of it. Problem is, I'm hitting some major roadblocks in the plot. So, I really need your guys' help.

I have an idea for how Lillian will realize that she really loves Oliver, but it's a lot like the plot from pride and prejudice. If you don't mind that, please tell me so, and I'll write that.

BUT, if you happen to have an idea for what Oliver can do or what can happen to convince Lillian, PLEASE let me know in a pm or review. I'm really struggling here for some odd reason.

Also, if you have read my story Krystal Clear and want me to continue it, PLEASE tell me so. I'm not so sure if I'm going to keep writing it or just give up on it.

Oh, and one last thing. If you haven't already heard, the people at the loliver forums are planning to have an official (or somewhat unofficial) Loliver Day on May 26th! On that day, we're all going to either post a loliver one-shot or first chapter of a new loliver story (or maybe a new chapter, I'm not sure). So even if you feel like you're not a good writer or haven't written in a while, PLEASE participate and help us blow the moliver and lackson shippers away! 

-packersgirl37


	15. interference

She had played until nothing resounded in her mind other than haunting melodies. She had played until she felt as if there was no ounce of strength or ability left within her, and then had kept playing. She had played every song she had ever known, and then created new ones, letting an unseen force guide her fingers. She had played her heart out, and yet, she could never play enough to drive away the whispering emotions.

Then she sat still, her fingers seemingly locked in their curved position. The large room—now full of nothing but her, an instrument, and echoes—began to darken with the paling shades of sunset. Staring straight ahead, Lillian was half-aware of the tall figure that quietly was entering the room.

Somehow recognizing the presence as Emiline, Lillian whispered hoarsely, "I cannot play."

Filled with confusion and sympathy, Emiline slowly crept up beside her and took a seat on the already-occupied piano stool. "Why ever not?" she questioned. Lillian only averted her eyes and shook her head. A loud silence filled the room, speaking out what neither woman had the heart to say.

Finally, Emiline laid her hand comfortingly on that of her friend and said haltingly, "Perhaps . . . it is time for a change." Lillian looked at her friend helplessly as Emiline went on. "My aunt and uncle depart for London tomorrow. I'm sure they wouldn't object in the least if you accompanied them."

Lillian very slowly lowered her eyes as her mind spun madly. It seemed to Emiline as though her silence said, 'Do you really believe that going away will help me to forget?' Emiline sighed helplessly, and remarked, "Please, at least consider it." Taking her hand away from Lillian's, she began to walk out, saying, "Please do not feel at all obligated. However, if you should make up your mind, tell me so."

Feeling as if she may have just left something vital and necessary unsaid, Emiline slowly trod down the halls with an air of worry and foreboding. The once magnificent house now seemed empty and tainted with pain. Unable to stand the surrounding anguish, she half-ran outside with an aching heart. As her eyes drank in the last rays of sunlight, she spotted a white envelope lying carelessly on the gravel driveway. She curiously scooped it up, and, seeing no address, she broke the seal.

Though there was no greeting, Emiline quickly perceived that the letter was for Lillian, and that Mr. Oken must have unknowingly dropped it as he left. A choice lay ahead of her, one with grave consequences. She could deliver the letter to whom it was addressed, or send it to its author, wherever he was. She fought back and forth with herself, desiring to aid both Lillian and Mr. Oken. However, minutes passed, and she was still undecided. Just when she was about to rip the letter apart from the pure agony of indecision, Lillian's hollow, melodious voice reached her.

"I'll do it," the voice called. Emiline turned, hastily hiding the letter in the folds of her dress. Lillian's eyes shone brightly for the first time in days, catching Emiline off-guard. "I'll do it," she said again. "I shall go."

For some unexplainable reason, the hand holding Mr. Oken's message trembled in Emiline's hand.

Noticing her friend's suddenly-blanched face, Lillian came up in front of her and asked, "Are you well?"

Desperately trying to conceal her guilty eyes, Emiline hid the letter further and replied with a nervous smile, "Of course I am well. I'm pleased." Emiline then led Lillian back inside, making verbal preparations for her journey. Her voice steadied as she talked, but nothing blocked out the sound of her nagging conscience, begging her to bestow the letter to whom it was written. _'Tis not a grave matter,_ she inwardly told herself. _It would only bring her more pain should I give it to her now. _

Yet, no matter how many excuses she made for her actions, Emiline's heart continued to chide her for the remainder of the next few days.

**Thanks so much to all of you who reviewed and submitted ideas! I haven't officially decided what I'm going to do next, so please send me any others that come to mind. Hope this chapter doesn't sound too emo or depressed or anything. ******


	16. a pleasant surprise

**Okay, I finally decided just to go with my own idea. Thank you so much to all of you who gave me ideas or reviewed. Please keep it up!**

The yellow sunlight broke through the treetops, causing shadows to dance upon the windows of the carriage merrily. Lillian felt her spirits lighten ever so slightly. She was on her way to London, a bustling city full of distractions and diversions. Surely she would find rest there from the turbulent emotions that lay hold of her at home.

The aunt and uncle of Emiline—her traveling companions—were respectable and caring people. Lillian did not know how much of her past had been revealed to them by Emiline, but whatever they may have heard was wisely avoided in their conversations. Lillian liked them immensely for their pleasant manners and light conversations, and she learned much from them about various subjects that had before thought dull.

Still, her heart nagged her constantly about Mr. Oken, no matter how hard she tried to push thoughts of him from her mind. She felt that she might one day see him again—an event for which she did not look for ward to.

The carriage came abruptly to a halt, jerking Lillian from her thoughts. "Whatever could it be?" Emiline's aunt wondered aloud. The driver appeared at the door and stated apologetically that the horse had accidentally thrown a shoe. Until another carriage came along, they were stranded. Lillian's companions looked at each other worriedly.

"How far is it until we reach London?" the uncle asked.

The driver squinted his eyes thoughtfully, then replied, "About half a days walk on foot, I suppose, sir."

The uncle then turned and asked his wife, "Care for a stroll, my dear?" Lillian almost laughed at the fake cheerfulness in his voice as they set out down the half-paved road. Tall trees with wide branches reaching out blocked the sunlight and created a cool, safe atmosphere for the travelers. Birds fluttered down from bough to bough, calling out to each other in unalarmed chirps; then suddenly, the chirping stopped and the birds picked up their wings and began to fly away. Lillian wondered what could possibly disturb such a tranquil and serene scene, but got the answer when the sound of thundering hooves resounded behind her. She turned to see a carriage—not her own, mind you—flying down the roadway in the direction of London. Her companions looked startled at this sudden intrusion on their pleasant walk, but their apprehension quickly turned to wonder as the carriage slowed to a halt after passing them. Lillian nearly screamed for agony and happiness when Mr. Austin climbed out, calling her name enthusiastically.

"What are you doing here?' Lillian asked breathlessly, barely believing what had so suddenly appeared before her eyes.

Avoiding the question, Austin noticed the fatigue on the faces of Emiline's aunt and uncle as well as their somewhat soiled clothing, and asked, "Would it have been your carriage that we happened to pass a brief time ago? And if so, may I have the honor of escorting you in my own?"

Lillian, for once almost speechless, hesitated, then said quietly, "That would be delightful." Her companions, trusting Lillian's judgment, allowed themselves to be escorted into the carriage after her.

As Mr. Austin engaged herself in animated conversation, Lillian gradually began to push away all memory of what had taken place at the bal a year ago, as well as everything with Mr. Oken that had occurred in between. It was a task easier thought of then done, she soon found out.


	17. london

They had been right about London. It was distracting, or rather, Mr. Austin was. In their time there, he was full of amiability and pleasantness. Emiline's aunt and uncle became very fond of him, as did every other person to come into his acquaintance. As the days went by, Lillian allowed herself to fill her thoughts more and more with Mr. Austin, owing to the fact that he claimed that his engagement was terminated.

After almost a fortnight of traipsing about the city with Mr. Austin, Lillian noticed one day that he was not at all behaving like his usual self. The man seemed almost to be fidgeting, and he looked tormented with worry and fear. Lillian could not imagine what could trouble such a man so affectedly, and when she prodded him about it, he steered completely away from the subject and refused to answer her pleas. Lillian's curiosity was now thoroughly aroused, but she made herself be silent about the subject, resolving to ask her friend's aunt to pry it out of him.

Emiline's aunt entered the room at that moment and said, "I'm so sorry to interrupt your conversation, Lillian, but I'm afraid that if we do not leave soon for the theatre then we will surely miss the beginning of the show."

Though Lillian secretly detested opera, she had agreed to accompany her friends, and so she excused herself to put on her long coat while Emiline's aunt changed into her formal gown. As she came downstairs, coat in hand, Lillian overheard the uncle say to Mr. Austin, "Would you care to accompany us, Mr. Austin?"

Lillian hesitated on the stairs, listening intently.

"I'm afraid not, sir, for I am obliged to leave town this afternoon," Mr. Austin responded.

"So soon?" answered the uncle. "Whatever for?"

There was a slight pause, then, "An . . . urgent situation has come to my attention, and it must be attended to as soon as possible."

Lillian then heard a door close, and she saw as she came down the rest of the steps that her friend's uncle stood alone. The man did not mention anything to her about Mr. Austin, so she did not bring up the matter for fear that he would discover that she had been listening.

Thankfully, the mystery of Austin's departure was enough to distract Lillian from having to listen to the droll opera. Emiline's aunt, who had not yet been told by her husband about Mr. Austin, asked why she seemed so distant. Quickly changing her demeanor, Lillian resolved to forget about Mr. Austin, at least for the time being, until the reason for his departure was revealed.

She was not long in waiting, for when they arrived back at the inn in which they were staying, a maid brought her a letter from her brother that had been written a week or so before.

_Dear Lillian, _

_I am writing this at the encouragement of our dear friend, Emiline, and not of my own free will, for I certainly did not wish to be the bearer of tidings such as these. _

_I suppose I might as well tell you the news as soon as possible, for my first instinct would be to avoid telling you altogether and never come around to doing it, thus destroying the entire purpose of this letter. I apologize, Lillian, for there I start again. _

_We are penniless, and my trusting nature is at fault. Mr. Austin visited me, proclaiming that he had a misunderstanding with certain gentlemen—ones he did not wish to name in order to protect their honor—and apparently was distraught as to what to do. He also proclaimed that he was deeply in love with you, but he feared that his lack of fortune would hinder you in accepting his hand. I, being the bloody idiot that I am, believed him, and did it so heartily that I consented to allowing him to borrow a certain amount from my inheritance. Therein lies my final and most tragic mistake, for he stole it all, including the deed to our family property—in which I was going to name you as a proprietor alongside me._

_I apologize from the depths of my heart, Lilly, for my stupidity. I beg you to return home so that we may follow any legal procedures necessary to gain back what may now be lost forever. I must also beg you forgive me, for this matter has effects on both of us which I now realize. Before this incident occurred, I had reasoned to propose to Emiline and tell her of my longstanding affections; however, I cannot bring myself to ask her now, for how can she accept, knowing that I have no money or home to offer? _

_Please do not be half as distressed as I am, dear sister, but take heart. Do come as soon as earthly possible. I remain your loving, though ashamed, brother, _

_Henry Truscott _

Thoroughly despaired and alone, Lillian slumped into a nearby chair. When would this madness end?

**PLEASE, PLEASE REVIEW!!**


	18. lillian's return

**Btw, Emiline is the sub for Miley. I appreciate all the ideas you guys had for Miley's name. Destiny was the most popular, but it didn't really fit with the time period. **

Emiline Stewart strode slowly but surely away from the Truscott family estate, where she had just been to call on her friend Lillian, who happened to be strangely absent. Emiline had just returned from a long voyage with her aunt and uncle to Bath. Her time there had been well-spent ad delightful, but she was ready to see her friend again. It had always occurred to her that their friendship was an odd one, as they were so dissimilar. Lillian was wild and reckless, not caring for tradition or what was considered to be proper; Emiline was sweet and had pleasant manners, though rather flirtatious among men. The few things they shared were irritating older brothers, and an importance on love instead of money.

She could still recall the first day they had met:

_"I told you, Lillian, I want you to call me Miley! It's so... different! Exotic, even."  
_

_"You know your brother would have a conniption if he heard you called by that."  
_

_Emiline sighed and fell back on the bed dramatically. "I know. Brothers never let you have _any _fun." At that both of the girls burst into a fit of giggles, knowing that wasn't anywhere near the truth. In fact, Jackson was the one who started calling her Miley. His intentions, of course, were to completely infuriate her. Unfortunately for him, it did the complete opposite._

Emiline sighed. Things had been so much simpler back then. Suddenly, a flash of color in the nearby field caught her eye. She looked up to see her missing friend walking blindly through the mud, with hot and angry tears pouring down her face. Emiline was shocked to see Lillian cry, as she had never seen a single tear on her face. She hastily ran towards her friend, though she held up the hem of her dress in her hand.

"Lillian, is something the matter?" she cried out worriedly.

Lillian looked up, embarrassed, and stated in a shaky, though somewhat steady voice, "I'm quite alright, Emiline. How was your holiday?"

Emiline's face grew stern, and she forced Lillian to sit on a nearby fallen tree, saying, "Don't change the subject. I know very well that something is the matter with you, and I will detain you here until you tell me what it is."

Half-smiling at her companion's stubbornness, Lillian's eyes potrayed an angry sadness and she replied, "When Henry came back from town a fortnight ago, a large group of his friends came with him. I—a certain friend of his . . ."

Emiline's eyes grew wide with excitement as she interjected, "Are you saying that you love Mr. Oken at last?"

Lillian's face suddenly grew hard, and her tone was cold as she said through clenched teeth, "Even if he was the last man on the entire planet, I vow I will never love Mr. Oken! He is the cause of all of this." Emiline was shocked at her friend's angry outbreak, but she listened silently throughout Lillian's retelling of the events that had led up to where Emiline had found her.

Emiline was even more surprised when the narrative was over, but she managed to perceive something that Lillian would not. She saw that though Mr. Oken's actions were cruel and hurtful, they were done out of love and of the jealousy that love had brought. She had come to know Oliver through Lillian and Henry, and had always believed that Oliver loved her friend. In fact, Henry and Emiline had spent much time together trying to make the two realize how suitable they were for each other, though always had it been in van. So it can be supposed that even now, Emiline used Lillian's present situation to accomplish her private ambition.

Emiline hastily encouraged Lillian to approach Mr. Oken about the matter, though in a civil way. Causing a scene would only give the gossips something to gab about, after all. Emiline spent the rest of the day with Lillian, comforting her and trying to remove the deep-seated hatred that had established itself in her heart.

"Excuse me, sir, but is a Mr. Oken lodged here?" Lillian asked the same tavern keeper a few days later. It had taken her three days to calm down enough to confront Oliver without bringing a pistol.

The man was not pleased to see her. "I'm sorry, miss," he said in an irritated, condescending way. "But he's not 'ere. He left for London two nights ago, and yes, I'm sure of it. I saw him go with me own two eyes."

_The coward,_ Lillian thought, and left the man to tend to his work. _He doesn't even possess the gallantry to face me as a gentleman! _All the way home, thoughts such as these ran through her mind, and did nothing to help nurture her wounded pride.

It would be a year before Lillian would see Mr. Oken again, and by that time, she thoroughly hated him, inside and out.

**a/n: I kind of forced myself to write this chapter instead of waiting for inspiration, so sorry if it's not the best. Btw, most of the stuff in this chapter was inspired by the ideas of Pouring.My.Heart.Out.xJul. thank you!! **

**Next chapter: the trailer begins to come true!!**


	19. Chapter 19

Lillian turned, filled for the first time in what had seemed to be an eternity with purpose, and rushed out of the lavish garden, causing Emiline to hasten after her in confusion.

"Lillian, what's going on?" Where are you going? Lillian, answer me!"

Emiline's cries were lost upon her. The plan which had sprung into her mind was a desperate one, however, the situation of her and her brother called for measures such as these. It would take every ounce of strength and resonance within her to carry this through.

In an act of desperation, Emiline grasped Lillian by the shoulder and pushed her against the nearest wall, shocking Lillian into immobility.

"Lillian, what in Heaven's name are you doing? Have you gone mad? Did you not hear me calling you?"

Trying agitatedly to pull from her friend's grasp, Lillian replied in a determined voice, "I am going to save my family's estate, as well as my brother's reputation."

She broke free and continued in the direction in which she had first set out. Emiline's face was a picture of worry and wonder, but she started after Lillian once again, barraging her with surprised protests.

"How do you intend to do that? Lillian, nobody knows the whereabouts of Mr. Austin. Do you intend to discover him and demand for the money yourself?"

"I would if it was possible," Lillian stated, turning now into Emiline's room, which they were to share.

"Is money really all you think about?"

Emiline's words collided with Lillian, and she spun around to face her friend, her mission unforgotten but her anger thoroughly aroused.

"Do you honestly, in your heart, believe, Emiline, that I do this for the money?!" she spat out as if the idea were not meant to be uttered. "Do you not realize what this means to Henry? That was to be his home, and the fortune for his children! I am doing this for him!"

Emiline's pretty features were now tainted with an ocean of feelings and anger kept hidden for years.

"No, Lillian, this is about you! When has it never been about you? For your entire life you have gone around without a care in the world and you neither care nor have remorse for those which you impair in the wake of your negligence!"

"That is not true!" Lillian roared.

"Yes, it is, Lillian, and you know it! You know better than anyone else in this bloody world! Just look at what you have done to Mr. Oken! All he ever did and has done is love you, but you never once cared nor wished to see. Whatever happened, he was forever by your side, yet you disregarded him with everything you had in you because you were so frightened of your emotions and what would happen if you let yourself just once listen to your heart and not your head."

Lillian stood as one pierced through with a dagger, and though she wished with every bit of will left inside not to hear Emiline's last words, she realized that she would not be able not to hear them in all their truth and veracity.

"You have done this to yourself, Lillian Truscott, and that you cannot ignore, no matter where you run."

Emiline hastily left and closed the door loudly on Lillian, who, for perhaps the first time in her life, could not run away. The truth was inescapable, avoidable. She was her own worst enemy, and she had blamed everyone else in her scramble not to realize it.

**I'm so sorry that this is so short (and so late), but when I started to write this last night, the words literally just came to me, though I had no clue that this chapter was going to end like it did. I promise the end is coming soon! Only a few more chapters now that Lillian is finally seeing how wrong she's been. Please keep reviewing! **


	20. Chapter 20

How could she have been so blind? Had she truly been so blinded by her own vanity and audacity? Was all truly lost?

She had been ignorant, though the ignorance was self-inflicted. She had been a fool about Mr. Oken, about everything that had come her way. The misery and pain she had felt for too long was no one's fault but her own, and she could finally see that. She finally saw everything. It was beyond terrible to have seen oneself for the villain she truly was and had been the past few years. And as for Henry and Emiline and her parents, though not living, they deserved better from her, were better than her. And Mr. Oken . . . he had been the best of them all. He deserved better, no, the best. And that was one thing Lillian was absolutely certain that she was not.

- - - - - - - -

Oliver watched the man sitting sulkily beside him closely as the black carriage held them clamored down the cobblestone streets of London. The few who had known of his incessant searching of the city had questioned his motives and accused him of meddling in other people's private affairs, yet he had never quit hope, and had succeeded in the task which he had placed himself. Oliver knew that his most recent actions were right and correct, yet still he wondered why he had bothered to carry them out. His last hopes and dreams had been shattered by Lillian's immediate and blatant animosity. Surely his actions would mean nothing to her, for they had been performed by him.

Yes, though the searing affection was still eating away at his heart, there was no hope or life left within his soul to continue putting himself through such agony again and again. He would finish what he had determined to do, then go home. There was nothing left for him in Meryton but memories of longgone laughter and someone else's tears. Lillian would ever be his.

"Mr. Oken? We have arrived . . ."

**This is short. Very short, I know, so please think of it like half of a chapter. My senior year has started with a bang so updating might be slow. However, I have managed to come up with some sort of plan to end this, so please hold tight with me. **

**If you think you can guess what is going on with Oliver in this chapter and where he is arriving, send it to me in a review! You never know if you'll be right. Even if you don't have any idea, please review! It really helps me and the more reviews I get, the faster I update. **


	21. the end

" . . . in Meryston, sir."

Oliver turned his steady gaze from the man he had been intently and laboriously watching to gaze outside upon his boyhood home for what he considered to be his last and final time. He would accomplish what he had set out t do, and leave, really and truly leave. And though he despised himself for admitting it, he was truly ready to leave, to leave behind that which he had held onto for far too long and let control his every breath. This, what he was doing, was his form of goodbye.

- - - - -

Lillian sat somewhere in the garden, clutching her last feeble attempt at a letter to Mr. Oken. She had opened her soul and poured all its obscenities on so frail a carrier, ad yet it still was pathetic from even the greeting. This would never do. How could she possibly fit even one fragment of what had been striving inside her in one letter? And yet others could do it in one phrase! It was unthinkable. But . . . Oliver had done it. He had told her he loved her, had asked her to marry him. How could she not have seen all that was lying behind his words? How could she have thrown them away so carelessly? She would have given anything to have relived that moment now, enlightened as she was.

Through her inner turmoil, Lillian heard the sound of a carriage approaching, and instinctively rose and began trudging around to the front entrance. As she rounded the corner, a harsh cry rent the air, and faint shouting accompanied it. Lillian looked up to see Emiline barely holding back her brother Henry, who was nearly white as a ghost, and to her shock, Mr. Oken climbed out of the carriage holding firmly the arm of a very smug Mr. Austin. She immediately froze in place, and without calling on having any attention be brought to her, Mr. Oken turned and gazed intently in her direction. It almost seemed as if time were a river that had suddenly frozen over and Lillian was caught in the ice. An angry shout of Henry's pounded through her head.

"I ought to bloody murder you!"

Henry's shout brought Lillian from her shocked reverie, and she rushed over to him in hopes that if she were able to appease him, perhaps her own feelings would be settled down as well. As she approached, she perceived that Austin's manner was a mix of arrogance and anger, and she felt contempt that he didn't feel at all guilty for what he had done to her family; yet at the same time she pitied him, for he had lost the trust and friendship of many people, and those were things which one might never replace. This fragment of piety made her realize that though she despised what he had done, she would be able to forgive him far easier than she could forgive herself.

Not uttering a word, Mr. Oken prodded Mr. Austin's shoulder, and the latter spat out, "I have come to return that which I have taken."

Both Lillian and Emiline looked at Henry, who with difficulty constrained himself and answered with a prideful dignity, "I respect your coming back, and I thank you, Mr. Austin." Emiline now prodded him, who in turn, reluctantly added, "Would you care to come inside, Mr. Austin?"

Austin looked taken aback, but he consented as Emiline and Henry led him inside, leaving Lillian staring at Mr. Oken in a disbelieving way.

Mr. Oken returned her gaze for a second, then strangely shuddered and said quietly, "Well, I must be going. Goodbye."

"Mr. Oken!" Lillian cried out suddenly and desperately. He stopped, then turned his head and looked at her strangely. "Would you care for a walk?" Lillian asked, trying to keep the desperation from her voice.

Mr. Oken's expression softened, but he still seemed confused by her request as he agreed hesitantly, "It would be my honor, Miss Lillian."

Lillian felt as if a large burden had been removed from her back, though she rapidly became nervous as they began to stride down the lane. Mr. Oken remained silent, only adding to her discomfort. Though Lillian had initially asked for a walk so that she could apologize to her companion, she realized suddenly that though this was partially true, she truly had asked him because she didn't want him to leave. She desperately didn't want him to leave her. To never see him again was a possibility she realized that she never wanted to face, ever.

Looking over at her companion, she saw something she never though she would see in Mr. Oken. She saw . . . love, and not just the love he felt for her. No, she saw the love inside herself that had been pushed away, hidden, but there all along. She saw the one man whose actions had changed everything around her and everything about her, and she loved him for it.

"Thank you," she whispered so softly she doubted the angels would hear. Mr. Oken suddenly turned toward her, a look of surprise and wonder shadowing his face.

"For what?" he said just as quietly as she.

Strangely, for the first time, Lillian's mind was completely clear, and she knew exactly what to say. And what to feel.

"For everything."

Mr. Oken continued to gaze at her in an almost stunned silence.

"And—I'm sorry for everything. For hating you for what I did not know. For treating you like I have done. For being blind, so blind," she blurted out and just almost felt completely free.

"You weren't blind, Lillian."

"Yes, I was. I was blind to everything you've ever done for me, and I'm sorry, terribly sorry. I can't even . . . explain how much . . ."

It was almost as if the shadow that had been covering Mr. Oken's face was being chased away by the dawning of what Lillian was attempting to say. He stepped closer to Lillian, whose heart was 

beating at an inconceivably high rate. Lillian searched his eyes, seeking out the glimmer of hope, the scintillation of affection that had always been there, watching her. It was almost completely clouded with the disbelief and despair she had caused him, yet still it flickered through, granting her the courage and strength she needed for what she was about to say next.

Taking hold of that glimmer of love, she slowly spoke the words she was destined to utter.

"Mr. Oken, a while ago you asked me a question that I wasn't ready for nor wanted to hear. And you asked the wrong woman. But . . . I am not that woman anymore."

The flicker in his eyes began to grow into a wildfire that consumed all doubt, all fear, all confusion, and it was matched by that in Lillian's eyes.

"I do believe that I _have_ changed, Mr. Oken, and at the risk of being nonsensical, self-centered, and too hopeful, I would ask that you might make the request a second time in hope that you might obtain a different answer."

Now completely breathless, Lillian lowered her head and instantly felt two large hands gently touching her cheeks and raising her head.

"Lillian Truscott, do you love me?" Oliver asked, just as breathless as she.

Lillian smiled the first she had in months and answered as she reached up to his shoulders, "I will. Marry you, that is."

Oliver suddenly gasped, though not in pain, and Lillian saw that his eyes were wet with tears.

"You have no idea," he whispered, "how long I have waited to hear you say that . . .

. . . Lillian."

The End

Epilogue:

With the return of the Truscott estate deed and the taken money, Henry and Emiline were established as the master and lady of the Truscott family estate. Oliver took Lillian to his northern home where they spent many days riding and fishing with their twin son and daughter, William Henry Oken and Jane Emiline. Madison Grace Truscott was born two years afterwards. Lillian's true parents were never identified, and no relatives were able to be found.

Matthew Austin spent most of his life in the London jail, but escaped to marry Miss Fitzgerald just before his sentence was ended. He was never seen again by the Truscotts or the Okens.


End file.
